As the end of the day approached and the sun thought about making its lazy way to bed. The birds were idly stretching out their feathers and lounging about. Devon Singing their last few twitters of the day. Even the insects were tiring of their incessant buzzing, buzzing that turned to buz. The sun arced across the holiday cottages and fishing became the most important task of the day.
Darren decided the best way to end a British summers day. No it wasn’t raining, was to tackle up and spend a few pleasant hours experiencing Devon fishing holidays on Mirror Lake. What a perfect way to shrug off the rigours of the day, rest those tired muscles and drift into another world. Recharge those batteries with Fishing in Devon power!
Darren is keen to improve his personal best.
18 lb at the moment, not at all shabby, although he has always said that it’s the sport that really gives the pleasure and many smaller fish can fight just as hard and provide as much, maybe more sport than some of the larger fish. But there is still that little nagging feeling in the back of the brain, that longing, the unfulfilled dream that stirs him on to pursue the larger stock that the selfcatering cottages and fishing centre has to offer.
Dreams of Devon Queenie:
27 + pounds of Capacious Carp. His Moby Dick, the whirring of the reel as it screams around, spewing line out towards his catch. But then it will be, when it will be. Darren hasn’t caught Queenie yet, but skill will out in the end.
He has his dreams of pub speak down the local, when you open your arms as wide as they will go, your fellow drinkers cry “how big!” then tales of the ones that got away and the ones that didn’t, all lubricated by a particularly nice Theakstons Old Peculiar.
This evening Darren was joined by a young lad at the lakeside. Robert McCloud, he was only versed in the sport of sea fishing. You know that’s when you stick a shark on an anchor, attach it to a 100 tonne cable. Throw it over the side of the boat and winch it up every once in a while. To see if you have caught anything. If you catch anymore than 3 fish the European fishing police won’t let the Brixham fishing boats out for 6 months.
Devon were chatting about things fishing.
Enjoying the evening air, the plaintive call of a skylark and generally putting the world to rights, when Darren saw that quiver of the float.
Was it about to happen? were man and fish about to do battle?
A hush descended on the two fisherman who immediately. Mutually understood the importance of the event, another little bobble of the float, were they into the fish or was it just sucking on the bait, was it looking up through the water at them, teasing them, cocking a snook, waving a defiant fin.
Then the float plunges, ripples of water fan out as if crying an early warning. Darren strikes, he’s on the fish, it tears off across the lake. The rod bends to take the strain and the line creaks, Darren starts the sport of bringing it in.
Now Darren is a selfless Devon soul:
Full of the milk of human kindness, or is that the Theakstons again? He knows how much fun Robert can have coarse fishing, what a perfect time to introduce. Another youngster to its finesse over the bludgeoning tactics of Sea fishing.
He hands over the tackle to Robert and talks him through the delights of playing the fish in, trying to keep the line tight keeping the barbless hook engaged, drawing the fish in, slowly but surely, gently does it, slowly slowly catchee monkey, The rod bends and whips, the line shrugs off water like a wet dog shaking, musically protesting the strain.
And indeed Robert has made the paramount sterling effort. Guided by his mentor, with beads of perspiration on his brow, Robert has brought it in to the landing net.
Now Darren is not a fellow known:
To use expletives, but you could understand his position. For Robert now has a personal best greater than Darrens and has now also caught Queenie 27 pound, “hows about that then guys and gals”